


Only ever with you

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, One Shot, Strangers, The Jungle (Teen Wolf), Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 01:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: It was a sight to behold and not just because it was a bit like watching a sideshow at the circus.  The guy clearly didn’t care what people thought or how the reacted to him.  He was there to have fun and enjoy himself--fuck everything else.It was beyond admirable to Derek who got the idea people thought the same about him but instead because he was quiet, sometimes dour, and not easy to get to know.  He liked it that way.  He did.  Usually.But sometimes, like when he watched the loose-limbed stranger on the dance floor without a care in the world, he wished he could be even a little bit different.  That he was the kind of person who could walk up to someone he didn’t know and say, “My name’s Derek and you’re hot and I want to learn everything about you.”





	Only ever with you

**Author's Note:**

> I missed day 14. :( My brain needed a break! But I feel ready to tackle the week ahead now!

It was his third time at the club that week.

Normally Derek didn’t go to any club _ever_ but last week was his friend Erica’s birthday and she demanded he come out with their group of friends, “for _once_ , Derek.” So he did, expecting to hate every single second of it.

And he did, silently. 

Until he saw him.

Derek noticed him on the dance floor at Jungle about an hour after he arrived and sat with his friends nursing a single scotch and soda while they ordered shots and fancy drinks with umbrellas and pitchers of beer. It was hard to ignore the guy, the way his limbs flailed wildly as he moved with total abandonment. 

It was a sight to behold and not just because it was a bit like watching a sideshow at the circus. The guy clearly didn’t care what people thought or how the reacted to him. He was there to have fun and enjoy himself--fuck everything else. 

It was beyond admirable to Derek who got the idea people thought the same about him but instead because he was quiet, sometimes dour, and not easy to get to know. He liked it that way. He did. Usually. 

But sometimes, like when he watched the loose-limbed stranger on the dance floor without a care in the world, he wished he could be even a little bit different. That he was the kind of person who could walk up to someone he didn’t know and say, “My name’s Derek and you’re hot and I want to learn everything about you.”

He wasn’t that person, though. He was the person who sat in the corner and watched everything around him and then went home to his one-bedroom apartment and only went out with friends when they basically threatened him. 

He cast another look across the dance floor, watching the hips of his quickly becoming obsession as they shimmied and swayed to the beat, completely in time with the music despite the wild movements. 

“His name is Stiles,” Cora, his little sister, filled him in the first night. “He goes to college with me. I think he studies programming or something.”

“Oh,” was all Derek said but Cora grinned at him and shot him a look that said she knew what he was thinking.

He gulped down the rest of his drink and rattled the ice in the glass as he got up to his friends, indicating he was getting a refill.

He dropped his glass off at the end of the bar and didn’t bother asking for another. He was likely going to go home soon anyway.

As he checked the time on his phone loud laughter caught his attention and he looked up in time to see Stiles walk past him with his arm slung around the shoulders of another guy with dark shaggy hair and a crooked jaw.

Derek stared as they walked by, unable to help himself, and as he did Stiles looked over at him with an unreadable expression. Derek kept watching and the two guys disappeared down a hallway marked “Washrooms”.

Derek shot Cora a text saying he was tired and heading out, then slipped through the crowded floor to the exit before anyone could tempt him back.

The second night he showed up at the club was by himself a few days after the first. Cora called him the next morning to give him some grief about leaving the club without saying goodbye but then she not-so-casually mentioned that Stiles was there a few nights a week to dance and “do whatever”. Derek wasn’t sure what she meant by that and pointedly ignored that she said anything about it.

His curiosity won over two days later and he was back at Jungle, sitting in the back behind the dance floor this time. The place was less crowded, being a Tuesday night, and Derek wasn’t even sure that Stiles would show up on a weeknight since Cora had just said “a few” nights.

Just as Derek was beginning to lose hope that he’d see him some people on the dance floor walked off, leaving an open space where Stiles was once again moving freely to the beat. The songs were mellower tonight, maybe a different DJ was picking songs, and Stiles’ whole body swayed like a willowy tree in the wind. He was no less gregarious but it was more like watching a modern dance performance instead of someone flailing.

He was wearing a pair of jeans and a tight t-shirt that might have said something if Derek were close enough to read it. His hair was damp from sweat and he kept pushing it back with his long fingers. His t-shirt would often ride up to expose his toned abdomen and sometimes his pants would slip down his hips just enough to be borderline indecent before he’d hike them back up.

A couple tables to Derek’s left, a customer bumped into a server with a tray of drinks and they crashed to the ground. The commotion drew everyone’s attention including those on the dance floor but when Derek looked back to the front he locked eyes with Stiles who’d paused and was standing in the middle of the lights and thumping music staring up at Derek with a strange look on his face. 

Derek looked away quickly, leaning back against his seat in hopes that there was enough darkness in his corner to cover the heat that flooded his cheeks. When he looked back up at the dance floor about a minute later he didn’t see Stiles. 

He glanced around the club quickly and spotted him near the end of the bar where Derek stood a few nights earlier. Stiles was further away from Derek then so when Derek spotted him he wasn’t sure if Stiles would see him, too. He did, though, as he looked up and zeroed in on Derek immediately, so easy that it sent a shiver down Derek’s spine. 

Stiles tilted his head while he watched Derek, then bit his lower lip in a way that went straight to his dick. Derek shifted in his seat, still watching Stiles who seemed to grin slyly across the club at him. That couldn’t be right though, and he stayed in his seat until Stiles was distracted by someone he obviously knew who drew him into a conversation. 

While he was distracted Derek took the chance to leave the club without any further temptation. He drove home white-knuckling the steering wheel and as soon as he locked his apartment door he pushed his pants and underwear down and frantically jerked himself off, leaving him weak-legged and panting.

Derek wanted to go back to Jungle the next night but he already had plans with Cora who spent most of the evening trying different ways to ask him if he was into Stiles and if he wanted to go back to the club. He didn’t give her much to go on and instead kept steering the conversation back to more benign topics. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of Stiles and that he didn’t even know what it was about the guy that drew him in. 

Thursday night Derek tried to resist, telling himself that he had work to do at home and there was no reason for him to go back to Jungle.

He lasted until 10pm.

Jungle on a Thursday night wasn’t exactly a hotbed of social activity so it was easy enough to spot Stiles, even though he wasn’t on the dance floor this time. He was sitting at the bar instead, nursing a drink of whiskey from the looks of it. 

Derek took a seat down the same side of the bar from Stiles and ordered a beer but didn’t take a drink. Instead, he watched Stiles openly, edges of his nerve and sanity fraying

It only took Stiles about thirty seconds to realize he was being watched when he looked up and met Derek’s gaze steadily. If he was surprised he didn’t show it and instead his lips curved up into a half smile.

A couple walked up to the bar and blocked Derek’s view while they ordered. He tried to look around them but he couldn’t see Stiles and waited impatiently for a minute until they moved. When he could see again he nearly threw up his hands in frustration because Stiles was gone from his stool, leaving his drink behind.

Derek glanced around quickly and noticed Stiles hovering by the wall to the washrooms, waiting for Derek to find him. They met gazes again and Stiles inclined his head to the doorway and then slipped inside.

Derek swallowed hard and made a split second decision, pushing off his stool and making a beeline to follow Stiles.

He’d never been in the bathrooms at Jungle and so wasn’t used to the dark, echoing room. He didn’t see anyone else in the hall or when he stepped into the men’s room. He could hear heavy breathing though, and the vague sound of skin on skin.

He walked slowly to the end of the stalls and looked around the edge of the last one to find Stiles with his back against the wall, pants pushed down enough to palm his cock. Derek knew this was insane and morally wrong and he should leave the room at the risk of being caught or seen but as he watched Stiles stroke himself while staring back at him from under heavy-lidded eyes he couldn’t help but think it was also hot and sexy and enough of a turn on that he was getting hard, too. 

He stayed where he was and watched as Stiles arched his back and parted his lips, letting out what Derek was sure where breathy moans but he couldn’t hear them over the music outside. Derek ran a hand down to his own cock and pressed the heel of his hand against it through is jeans. This seemed to please Stiles who grinned and worked his hand faster, twisting lightly at the head of his own dick.

Derek watched as Stiles’ breathing became erratic and his chest heaved while he lost the rhythm of his strokes. Stiles came on the floor, no doubt joining the memories of many other illicit club encounters, but what mess he made on his own hand was cleaned up by Stiles himself. He kept his gaze on Derek as he ran his tongue up and down and between each finger, putting on an encore to his one-man show just for him.

Once he was done Stiles zipped himself up and walked up to Derek casually. 

“Hey,” he said easily as if he hadn’t just come everywhere in front of a stranger to him. “I was wondering when you were finally going to get the hint. I’m Stiles. Wanna get out of here?”

“Derek,” he managed. His heartbeat was fast and hard in his chest and his cock and he was overwhelmed and this shit only ever happened in the movies, right? “And yeah. Yes, I want to get out of here.”

Stiles grinned, but then hesitated as doubt clouded his eyes. “With me, right?”

Derek couldn’t help but laugh aloud because wasn’t that his line? “Yes, absolutely. Only ever with you.”


End file.
